Page 59 of Mesmerized

“You mean, could it have come from an earlier time? And maybe the Martyrs didn’t even know of its existence?”

Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know. It just occurred to me that maybe it was wrongly assumed that the treasure belonged to that Lord Scorhill. It seemed the likely explanation, but no one really knew that the martyred family built that room or put the gold box in there.”

“Let’s look at the room,” Stephen suggested. “I have to put the box back, anyway.”

Olivia stared at him. “But that is the secret room. You cannot show it to me.”

Stephen quirked an eyebrow. “Frankly, the secrecy of the room bothers me less right now than a number of other things. Anyway, all you will know will be the location of the secret room. If you turn away or close your eyes, you won’t see the mechanism of how the door operates, and, believe me, without that knowledge, I don’t think anyone could open it.”

“All right. If you are certain.”

“Positive.” Stephen wrapped the box once again in its velvet covering, then picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

They left the study and went up the stairs to the bedroom wing, walking past the family’s bedchambers. Several doors down from the last of the bedrooms used by the family and their guests, Stephen turned a corner and opened a door. Inside lay a smaller chamber than the one in which Olivia was residing, furnished in the style of Louis XIV.

Stephen stepped back to allow Olivia to enter, then went in after her and pushed the door, not noticing that it did completely shut. “We rarely use this room,” he told her as they walked to the middle of the room. “It is one of the smaller guest rooms, and it’s occupied only when the house is exceptionally full. It is not a favorite room of guests. I remember one cousin who stayed here when I was an adolescent who demanded that my mother move him to another room.”

“Why?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I think it was because of the cold.”

“It is chilly,” Olivia commented, rubbing her arms. “I presumed it was because the room was not in use.”

“Yes, but even when there is someone staying here and we have the fire lit, it isn’t a particularly warm room. It’s on the north side, and the fireplace doesn’t seem to work well.”

“Should I close my eyes now?” Olivia asked.

“Yes.”

She did so, and to her surprise, he bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. Her eyes popped open, and Stephen chuckled.

“Sorry. I could not resist.” He hesitated for a moment, then kissed her again, more lingeringly this time. He was still carrying the velvet-wrapped box under his arm, which made an embrace awkward, so after a moment, he stepped back with a sigh. “All right. Close your eyes.”

Olivia, feeling a little giddy from his kiss, closed her eyes again and also turned around to face the other direction, just for good measure. Behind her, she heard Stephen crossing the floor.

Behind her, Olivia heard a click, then the swish of something moving. Stephen said, “All right. You can look now.”

Olivia turned. Stephen stood beside a narrow door, a piece of the wall, actually, that had swung away from the rest of it. Beyond it lay a small, dark room. She walked over to join Stephen and looked inside the secret room. It was small, the size of her dressing room at home, and it had no furnishings except for a small, narrow wooden table. There were no windows, so that the place lay in a perpetual gloom. Stephen stepped inside the room, ducking to go through the low doorway, and crossed to the table to set the box upon it. He turned to Olivia.

“Come in.”

Olivia hesitated, then took a step inside. She stopped abruptly. The room was frigid. However, it was not the cold that stopped her, but the sense of something hovering in the air, heavy with menace and evil. It pushed against her body, its tendrils slithering around her. Thick and black, it tugged at her, curling around her throat...

Dragging in breath with a gasp, Olivia jumped back out of the room. She stared at Stephen, trembling, unable to speak, her eyes wide and her face drained of color.

“Olivia?” Stephen frowned in concern, starting toward her. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, unable to formulate what she had felt as she entered the room. Her stomach churned, and she felt weak and dizzy, as she had earlier when she had touched the small golden casket.

Stephen joined her in the bedroom, his arm going around her. “Did you see something again?”

“No. But it was—I felt it. I—there is evil in that room.”

“Evil?” He glanced back at the inner room.

Olivia did not follow his gaze. She could not even bear to look into the room again. She turned and walked over to the small straight chair by the door and sank down on it. Stephen watched her for a moment, then turned and closed the section of the wall. Once it was closed, there was no indication of where the line of the door was.

He went to Olivia and squatted down in front of her, taking both her hands between his. “Is it like it was downstairs?”